MISTS OF AUTUMN

MISTS OF AUTUMN 

Sitting at my desk

I look out across the scene,

The empty seat, the mists that rise

And I wonder what they mean. 

I see her sitting there

And yet I know it cannot be.

For many years have gone

Since she walked with me. 

I feel her tender touch

As she would take my hand and walk,

Sometimes in quiet solitude

And yet at times we would walk. 

I look again and see her leaving

But she was never in this place,

She turns and smiles at me

I remember her lovely face. 

Seasons come and seasons go

The mists rise and fall,

Yet she visits me so often

Such memories I recall. 

Tis only in this season

When autumn chills the air

That she makes her presence felt,

And shows her tender care.

It is my favourite season

And I know she loved it too,

So we share a rendezvous,

In the mists and in the dew.

She was special in my life

And loved me like no other,

I am proud to see her in the mist  ~

My precious, much loved Grandmother. 

© Linda J. Vaughan

May 3rd. 2009